Yanks and Limeys
by ayashina
Summary: "Dancing- vertical to horizontal!" The girls hatch a plan to get Des and Shaun together through dancing. Meanwhile, in Ezio's world, something scarily similar is happening. ShaunxDesmond, EzioxLeonardo
1. This little tea party of yours

Desmond strode into the small kitchen of the hideout. Almost hitting both walls as he stretched, he plopped down into one of the mismatched plastic chairs surrounding the small table, letting out a yawn.

"Good mornin'" he slurred, pouring himself some coffee. Shaun glanced at him over the rims of his glasses, his semi-permanent scowl in place.

"Yes. _'Good morning' indeed._ Abstergo may be slaughtering other teams as we speak or banging down our doors with semi-automatics, but it is most certainly a _good morning._"

"Who spat in your crumpets?" Rebecca teased, striding into the kitchen, followed shortly by Lucy and Niharika (SHAMELESS SELF-INSERTION. BAAAAAW.). Desmond had no clue how Rebecca could stand having lived alone with _Shaun_ for seven years, and still be a morning person after the fact, with a sense of humour to boot. Shaun gave a withering look in the direction of her purple ducky pyjamas.

"Hey Des, mind passing the coffee?" Lucy asked, snuggling into her fluffy night robe in the proverbial line of fire between Desmond and Shaun while Desmond poured her some of the hot beverage, glaring at Shaun all the while.

_Stupid limey asshole._

_Bloody yank._

From the counter, Rebecca and Niharika exchanged glances as they busied themselves with chai and bagels. The tension in the room was so thick you'd need a cleaver to get through it, and the girls could feel it. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Shaun stood up, announcing he had some 'real work' to do, aiming the verbal barb in Desmond's direction before sauntering out of the room. Desmond gave the doorway a black look, before returning to his attention to his breakfast.

"Asshole" he muttered. Lucy patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"Sorry about him. He gets stressed really easily, you know? He feels burdened by the thoughts of other assassins dying around him while we're safe in here."

"Don't see why he always takes it out on _me."_

"Sexual Tension?" Rebecca offered, sliding into Shaun's abandoned seat. Desmond spat his coffee back into his mug, almost falling out of his chair.

"W-what?" he sputtered. Lucy gave Rebecca a warning glance, thumping Desmond's back as he doubled over, choking. "**What?**" Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Don't give me that look, Luce. It's not like Des _couldn't tell_ that Shaun isn't as gay and the day is long. Niharika, back me up here." Niharika gave a sheepish glance from the counter.

"Well…could you?" She inquired, shuffling over to where Rebecca sat, trying to avoid Lucy's frown.

"I guess…" Desmond mumbled over his toast. "But I didn't really think…"

"Think about it." Rebecca said. "I was _alone_ with this guy for _seven years_ and _nothing _happened. We weren't even fuck buddies."

Desmond had unwittingly taken another sip of drink, and had another coughing fit, his ears turning red. He doubled over, trying to hide his ever reddening cheeks, hoping the girls wouldn't noticed.

_Shaun, a fuck buddy? _

Desmond felt his face burning at the thought of the grumpy historian lying naked, glasses fogged and hair dishevelled. He righted himself, hoping his eating companions would think his positively crimson face was a side effect of choking. A disgruntled Shaun poked his head in the door frame.

"Sorry, I feel _positively guilty _interrupting this _tea party_, but if you could spare perhaps a _minute _of your precious time, we kind of, you know, _have a world to save._"

Instead of fixing Shaun with his usually glare, Desmond looked surprised, if not a little embarrassed, as he followed the bespectacled grouch to the animus room. Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

"Well, well. Look what we have here. What do you think, Luce? Niharika?"

Lucy sighed, defeated. "Alright, no denying i saw that."

Niharika gave a bemused look in the direction of the door. "Yeah, but there's _no way in hell_ either of them would act on it unless they got a little…push."

Rebecca gave a wicked grin, and placed her hand on the middle of the table. "Think we could give them that push?" Niharika slapped her hand on top.

"Deal."

Lucy raised her hands in defeat, before putting one down on top of the pile. "If you can't beat 'em…" She muttered.


	2. A curmudgeon like Shaun

After sealing their deal, the girls walked to the animus room, brainstorming how in Altair's name they could give the guys 'the push', as they had dubbed it. Entering, they were amazed to find that the boys weren't at each others' throats as usual. Shaun was bent over his computer, typing in data like a mad man, while Desmond watched from the animus, occasionally inquiring as to what Shaun was doing, usually receiving curt, short responses.

_At least they're not insults. _Desmond mused.

"Alright, Des. Ready to go in?" Lucy smiled reassuringly, taking her position at her desk. Desmond nodded, and Rebecca plugged him in. Niharika took her spot at a computer next to Shaun, opening a few files to work on some graphics.

_Now, how am I going to find a way to get to a curmudgeon like Shaun?_ she thought, wrapping herself in her work. Suddenly, she got an idea.

_Ezio practically glided over the rooftops, his body obeying his every command. A few guards stumbled after him. "Assassino!" They hollered, their breathing ragged as they tried to keep up with the acrobatic youth. Ezio let out a low chuckle as he took a sharp turn, leaving the guards to fall into the canal. He grinned, checking to see if he still had the codex, before sauntering off to Leonardo's workshop. He presented the codex to the blonde, smiling under his hood at the man's reaction. _

_Another codex page? How exciting!" Leonardo snatched the roll Feasting his eyes greedily on it, he ran to his desk, trying not to crush the assortment of papers and tools that littered to floor. Ezio busied himself, marvelling at some sketches sprawled over Leonardo's desk. Careful not to ruin them, he leafed through the sheets. There were pictures of birds everywhere, some captured in an instant, others that had been laboured over for hours. There were also many sketches of people, ghosts of faces from the marketplace, smiles captured in ink. Ezio's eyes widened as he came across a drawing of himself. It seemed like it had taken a while to do, with many precise strokes. In the picture, he was smiling. Not a false one he might use with a courtesan, but a real smile. One that reached his eyes. One that he never felt he could use outside the safety of his family, except for maybe with Leonardo. Leonardo stood up, rolling up the codex page and handing it back to Ezio. He beamed when he noticed Ezio's expression._

_"Do you like it?" He asked shyly, gesturing to the drawing Ezio held. Ezio pushed back his hood, his eyes soft._

_"Si, il suo moult bello. May i keep it?" Leonardo nodded, pulling the assassin into a pleasant hug._

_"I'm glad."_

Desmond pulled out a few hours later, shakily standing up to stretch his legs. Rebecca looked up from her work.

"How's baby working for you?"

"Great, so much better than Abstergo." Rebecca grinned.

"Hey, You want to go do some sparring? test out the bleeding effect?" Lucy suggested. Desmond agreed and followed her to the warehouse. After they had left. Niharika beckoned for Rebecca to go with her to the kitchen. Rebecca nodded, before turning to Shaun.

"Me and Niharika are gonna grab some food from the kitchen. Want any tea?" Shaun grunted with approval, not taking his eyes of his computer.

Rebecca heated some water in the microwave, using the buzzing of the timer to help hide her and Niharika's conversation.

"Okay, what is it?" She inquired. Niharika pulled a box of TimTams out of the cupboard, unnecessarily rustling the package.

"You know how Shaun is a stuffy patriotic British guy?" Rebecca snorted.

"Of course."

"Well, I'm guessing he hates American Music. Problem is, having worked in bars and things, that probably the only thing Desmond has on his ipod. What if we, you know, changed it up? Gave them something to bond over?" She passed Rebecca one of the cookies.

"You think that could work? I mean, we all know how damn opinionated Shaun is, but i think they need something more _solid_ to really push them over the edge." Rebecca knitted her brows with concentration, before a wide grin spread over her face.

"_Solid!_ Hey Niharika, you took dance before you got all wrapped up in this, right? Why don't we give them a little…_ education_ in the finer points of vertical dancing and music? If we're lucky, it might lead to an entirely different kind of dancing. You know, the _horizontal _kind."

Niharika followed in suit, her grin almost rivalling that of Rebecca's.

"Rebecca, Shaun trusts you most, Right? How about you weed it out of him if he has the hots for Des, and Lucy can work on Des' mind. I'll Come in when it's time for the lessons."

The microwave beeped, pulling them out of their reverie. Piling a plate high with some teabags and TimTams, Niharika grabbed a tray while rebecca filled a few mugs with the water, before heading back to the animus room with looks of pure, unadulterated innocence plastered on their faces.

Dinner wasn't exactly a peaceful time at the hideout. Shaun only wanted English food, usually leading to heated arguments between him and Niharika over the Monarchy during the English empire, Rebecca couldn't stand the thought of bland english food, much less of Lucy's healthy ideals. Lucy was shocked at the amount of msg Desmond put in his body, refusing to let the novice find a cheap Chinese place, and Niharika was really far too picky about the idea of freezer-packaged meals. The team eventually wound up cooking for themselves, muttering misgivings about monarchy, blandness, or msg. Tonight was Shaun's turn on clean up duty, and he wasn't exactly pleased as he scrubbed dried butternut squash from Lucy's bowl. Sensing an opening, Rebecca sauntered in, and wordlessly began to help clean the dishes. After the task was done, she fixed some tea, passing it to Shaun before grabbing herself a cup of instant coffee and leaning against the counter. She glanced over at the historian as he thanked her, giving him a few minutes to get into a state of calm. Taking a deep breath, she filed the question.

"Do you like Desmond?"

Shaun's reaction wasn't exactly promising. He wound up leaning over the sink in a choking fit, with his mug and glasses on the floor. Rebecca leaned over, picking up the cup and passing Shaun his eyewear. "Well?" She persisted. Shaun snatched his glasses, fixing her with his darkest stare. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't much of an intimidating sight, with his glasses askew, hair a mess, tea dribbling down his chin, and cheeks redder than a lobster. "Well?" She asked again, prodding the man in the side.

_"I beg your pardon?"_ He sputtered, righting his glasses. Rebecca Grinned.

_Gotcha, Hastings._

"You do! I knew it! That explains the constant bickering! It's how you show _affection_, you limey bastard!" Shaun scowled and looked away.

"It's more complicated than that, Becca." He muttered. Rebecca ceased her prodding, deciding this could use a more _Tactful _approach. She gave him a hug.

"Aw, afraid he won't like you too?" She pouted. He stiffened underneath her, and Rebecca knew she had her man. "Stop being to cynical! You're smart, well-dressed, and when you're not being a grumpy asshole, you're a pretty nice person! Even if Des won't get insta-romantic if you start being _nice _to him, you could probably at least get to be _friends_ with him. Don't give me that look, Shauny Boy, there is _nothing_ impractical about this! The team will _so_ run smoother if you two aren't at each others' throats half the time." She winked at him. "Besides, I've got a totally wicked idea to help you loosen up!" Shaun raised an eyebrow.

"I hope you know, If you tell him _anything, _absolutely **anything**, you'll be a dead woman walking, Crane." Rebecca smiled. She knew he was all talk, and no matter how fun it would be to let Desmond in on this juicy little piece of information, she and the girls had to take this slow, letting the duo go at their pace, or someone might get hurt. "You have my word as a Yankee bint."

Sparring had been exhausting, mentally and physically, the perfect thing to help Desmond forget that _image_ of the historian he had thought up at breakfast. Luckily, his redness could easily pass as fatigue. Lucy sighed. She couldn't _believe _Rebecca had just convinced her to do. Steeling her nerves, she passed Desmond a water bottle, he took it gratefully, giving her an appreciative nod as he downed it's contents. Having learned from earlier that morning, Lucy waited until he was finished before she spoke.

"Desmond, is something bothering you? You look distracted." Desmond shrugged.

"It's nothing really. I'm just tired." She bit her lip, getting ready to carry out the task Rebecca had asked of her. She hoped Rebecca hadn't given anything away when she had here "little talk" with Shaun.

"Desmond… does it bother you when Shaun is constantly verbally jabbing you?" He gave Lucy a guilty glance, like she had just caught on to his thoughts. He sighed, leaning against a crate, playing with the bottle.

"Well, yeah. I just don't know what I do that bothers him so much."

"I think it's just this whole thing, you know? Shaun isn't exactly a trusting person, and your new to him, i guess. He's also so serious about _everything, _and you have a more optimistic way of looking at things. He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't like that it's hard for him to figure you out, it's usually so easy for him."

_Nice one, Lucy. Just ask the question, already! _ She groaned inwardly.

"Desmond, do you…like Shaun?" He gave her a blank look.

_This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? Very suave._

"I-I mean…" She stuttered. "Sometimes he's a real dick to you, but you're so good natured about! So, you know…" She sighed. This wasn't going anywhere.

"Don't tell him, okay?" He muttered, staring at the ground. Lucy gaped, taking a moment to compose herself.

"Don't worry, Des. Well… if its any condolence, I could try and help him warm up to you. Only if you want me to, though." She added quickly. Much to relief, Desmond Smiled.

"Thanks, Luce."

As soon as Lucy got to her room, Rebecca and Niharika practically leapt on her.

"So? So? What did he say?" Niharika jumped up and down, Tugging Lucy's arm. Lucy rolled her eyes good naturally.

"I wonder if i should pack sunscreen when i go straight to hell." Rebecca grinned, giving her blonde friend a big hug.

"I knew you could do it, Luce! Lets start planning right now!"


	3. Walking: Better than ninja rolls

A few hours later, as well as a few pots of coffee, the girls finally had a brief outline of the task at hand. Lucy and Niharika would teach Desmond a thing or two about a more romantic kind of dancing, not just the dirt that showed up at the bars he'd worked at, While Rebecca and Niharika would find a way to help loosen Shaun up. The thought of Shaun shaking his hips to the beat of American music left them smothering their laughter with pillows, it was just that ridiculous. Since music leads to dancing ('Vertical to Horizontal', as Rebecca put it.), Rebecca figured the surest and fastest way to get 'those two ignoramuses' to notice how _head over heels_ in like, if not love, they were with each other was to find them _something_ they could agree about.

Something that would lead to dancing. That something being music. That dancing leading to a _functional_ relationship instead of elementary school level flirting that consisted of the boy shoving the girl's face in mud and making her eat it. It was a slippery slope, but at least no one had eaten mud yet ('The key word being yet.' Lucy had laughed, finally deciding to enjoy the action before making sure the other girls actually got some _sleep._).

Desmond sighed, rolling over in his small bed in the corner of the animus room. It had been an exhausting day, that was for sure, especially since he'd finally admitted to liking Shaun. Before, the little thoughts and voices scurrying around in his mind could be dismissed as the little bubbles of insanity one got when one hadn't been laid in far to long. Telling someone as open and honest as Lucy made the little bubbles seem _real_, like a solid, unavoidable fact. He glanced over at Shaun's sulking form by the computer.

"Hey…" he murmured, trying to get the brit's attention. Shaun glanced over at him. He didn't really seem annoyed, just tired. "I, uh… goodnight, Shaun." He managed, turning back to hide his embarrassment as his face turned a tomato-like shade of scarlet.

_Nice going, Desmond. That went smoothly._

Shaun fixed his gaze back on the screen in front of him, trying to think of what to say. He'd never really exchanged polite, meaningful words with _anyone_, and something this casual felt absolutely _alien_ to him. I chewed his lower lip, trying to find an appropriate way to respond to the situation.

_C'mon, Shaun, you're acting like such a git. Just be _civil_ for once._

"Sleep well, Desmond."

Desmond's eyes widened, and a small smile crept on to his face.

"Thanks, mate."

The next day passed relatively uneventfully for Shaun. He was glad Rebecca didn't try to bring up the incidents of the night before, but he was pretty sure he could feel her gaze boring into the back of his skull when he snuck a few glances at a comatose Desmond as he lay in the Animus.

Around noon, the team noticed their pantry stock dwindling, and Rebecca dragged Shaun along to help her get groceries.

"This guy needs some exposure to the outside world, believe me." She reasoned. "Plus, I need someone to help me carry the bags. After they left, Lucy and Niharika laid way to their plan. Employing as much stealth as the rookie could manage, Niharika slunk into Shaun's room.

_This place is like a museum! Very nice, very clean, and you can't touch _anything.

Deciding that ninja-rolls weren't exactly the most efficient way to move around, Niharika stood up and took a look around. There were shelves of books arranged alphabetically _everywhere, _covering pretty much every topic in recorded history, From the fall of Greece to the Ottoman Empire. He didn't really spend much time decorating, and the walls where pretty much bare, save for a small board behind his desk covered in a few things of sentimental value. The desk itself was just as empty, with only a laptop and some pens, and a few drawers filled with files. She scowled.

"Why can't the dumb ass just leave his ipod out in the open like a normal person? It's not like he has anything to _hide_ or something." Waltzing over to the bed, she ducked down and checked underneath it.

"Nobody here but us dust bunnies, huh?" Careful not to disturb the thin layer of dust, she reached in, feeling around on the floor. Something hanging from the underside of the bed brushed her arm. Giving it a tug, she found a small key attached to to piece of string hung from the bed boards. "Check and mate, Hastings." Sitting up, She brushed of her sweater and gave the room a once over. "If I were I grouchy British bookworm, where would i put a lock to match this key?" She straightened up and walked towards the bookshelf beside the cot. "Something easily accessible, but nothing another person would find suspicious?" Giving the shelf her best 'Shaun death glare', she ran her hands along the spines. "If i was a disgruntled 30 year old guy, I would hide it _behind_ the books." Pushing all the texts back to the wall, she noticed the encyclopedia set wouldn't budge. Wheeling the chair from Shaun's desk, she shakily stood on it and removed the hefty volumes, being rewarded with a thin wooden box lying on its side with a keyhole latch in front of the lid. Niharika grinned with triumph. "Jackpot!" carefully getting of the chair, she opened the box. She felt kind of bad violating something the historian had clearly put a lot of effort into hiding, but the angel on her shoulder disappeared when she noticed that buried among letters and photos was a sleek, black ipod classic. Taking care to make sure everything got put back in it's right place. She sauntered over to where Lucy was waiting, head held high and prize in hand.

"You _actually_ found it?" Lucy gasped. Niharika nodded.

"It wasn't easy, let me tell you! That place is like his own personal panic room. So, you ready to break the news to Des?"

"Ugh, no point in avoiding it any longer, i suppose." Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Aw, stop playing that card! we all know you want to get in on it, too!"

"Get in on what?" Desmond asked, peaking his head out from the kitchen. Lucy hesitated.

"Uhm…well…you know how you wanted help with…you know, Shaun?"

"You guys have an idea?" Lucy glanced at Niharika incredulously.

"Yeah. something like that."

"_D-dance lessons?" _Shaun stuttered, his jaw wide open. Rebecca picked up the cans of ravioli he'd dropped and loaded them into the cart.

"Don't be such a baby, Shaun! Dancing is a great way to loosen up and get into the _zone,_ you know? Not like dirty dancing, but like classy jazz, with smooth beats and stuff. Its _so_ what you need."

Shaun groaned, stuffing a few loaves of bread into the cart. "Alright, i'll trust you on this one, Rebecca. But I still think it's ridiculous."

**A/N: **hoooooooly crap what is this crap. I never played this game. any of the games. i have no clue whats going on half the time they may as well be in like student housing at university or something aaaaaaaaaaaaah. But thanks you guys for reading anyways, really you are all so awesome. oliveyu.

NINS OUT!


	4. In which Desmond is Debonair

**A/N: **sorry, a short chapter for now, kiddos. it'll be on what can be considered a possibly a weeks worth of a hiatus while i finish getting my art/dolls ready for anime evolution convention. After that, i'll be in new york for a bit, but i'll try and find some update time. Anywho, i feel i am making this story lag, but i'm glad there's a few people who like it :D

without further ado...

Desmond folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Sounds like a… fascinating idea? But how in the hell are you going to figure out the kind of music Shaun likes?" Niharika waved the ipod in his face.

"Uhm, hello?" Desmond gaped.

"How the fuck did you find that?" Lucy rolled her eyes.

"By not having a conscience, thats how." The blonde laughed. "Now lets get started before Rebecca and Shaun get back."

_This thing called love I just can't handle it _

_this thing called love I must get round to it _

_I ain't ready _

_Crazy little thing called love _

_This thing, this thing called love_

"Who knew the guy liked Queen?" Desmond flopped down on the couch next to Lucy.

"You're doing good, Des, but you're…i don't know… _missing _something." Desmond shrugged.

"Yeah, i guess i don't have the feel for it yet." Niharika flipped through the playlist.

"Damn, this guy really has a thing for the seventies, eighties, and the British invasion." Lucy twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

"Hey, Des? Why don't you try thinking of adjectives when you dance? You know, like for the sort of feel you want to get when you dance?" Niharika nodded.

"Yeah, give it a try! My dance teachers used to suggest that when they wanted us to move a certain way. Think debonair and sophisticated!" Desmond stood up and stretched.

_Okay, Desmond. Debonair and sophisticated… _The image of Shaun his mind had cultivated earlier popped up again, and he blushed, inwardly cursing Rebecca for putting it there. Swaying his hips to the rhythm, he offered Lucy his hand. Whirling her around to the music, he tried to imagine Shaun in her place.

"Try to move your feet more, in time to music. It makes your movements more fluid." Niharika offered. "Round your arms more, they look a little jerky… that's it!" Desmond continued dancing with Lucy, while Niharika helped correct motions.

"It's not so much picking up your feet to move, more like letting them glide across the floor, see?" (a/n: i am al capone. don't disagree, don't judge.)

_There goes my baby _

_She knows how to Rock n' roll _

_She drives me crazy _

_She gives me hot and cold fever _

_Then she leaves me in a cool cool sweat _

Near the end of the session, Desmond was feeling pretty confident about his dance skills. The trio had been hoofing it to Queen for almost an hour now, complete with a fair amount of terrible singing from Niharika and Desmond(Lucy was actually pretty good at hitting the high notes, which put Niharika in a "squee-fest" over her talent.). The girls had suggested he try some stretches to loosen him up before he started dancing, but he couldn't help but some of them where kind of _suggestive._ Suddenly, some Katy Perry came on the speakers. Desmond was dumbstruck. A grin slowly spread across his face, and he joined Lucy and Niharika in their fit of howling laughter. Lucy's phone buzzed, and an alert from Rebecca got Niharika sprinting back to Shaun's room, Ipod in hand. Desmond gave a quizzical look in her direction.

"Well, i guess it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?"

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, the only highlight being the movie Rebecca had rented while they where out getting groceries. "Rear Window", a Hitchcock classic. Desmond was secretly thankful it wasn't particularly a gory film. He may have been being trained to become a killer, but seeing death glamourized kind of upset him. Plopping down between Lucy and Rebecca on the sofa, he leaned his head back. It felt strange doing something as casual as a movie night considering their situation. But the opening credits started rolling, and Desmond decided to put any dark thoughts aside and enjoy the film.


	5. Haven't been around graveyards much?

"…but if you'd told me you quit your job, we wouldn't have gotten married."

"Oh, honey, come on. "

With those lines the film drew to a close, and the team began the gradual drift to their respective sleeping spaces. Desmond sighed, pulling himself up off the couch. Niharika rubbed her tired eyes, following Rebecca and Lucy back to their rooms. It didn't show by day, but sometimes Desmond could see how young she was. Too young for this business. She reminded him of Kadar, and it scared him. He didn't want Altair's or Ezio's memories merging with his own, but when he was inside the Animus, recollection each flitting moment of his ancestors' lives, feeling their emotions, he felt like he had three whole lives, each its own reality. Sometimes he felt like an actor with different parts to play, and Desmond Miles was one of those parts, no more or less real than Altair or Ezio. Curling up in his bed by the Animus, he watched Shaun, still working away at his computer. Even in a situation like this, Shaun seemed so grounded, so sure of the authenticity and truth of physical existence. Watching the historian labour over a keyboard in the ridiculously wee hours of the night (and morning) with harsh dark circles a constant presence on his face somehow made Desmond feel a little more sure of reality too, of Desmond Miles being a real, living, breathing person.

"G'night, Shaun. Try and get some rest, okay?" He heard a grunt of acknowledgement from the other side of the room, followed by a

"Yeah, thanks, Desmond." Desmond sighed. When people called him 'Desmond', it usually meant they were upset, or something needed some serious unfucking. Everyone called him 'Des', except for Shaun. Shaun never used nicknames, another grounding factor Desmond. The way Shaun clearly enunciated the syllables of everyones' names made them seem genuine - an authentic, solid fact. Feeling a days worth of exhaustion set in, Desmond let his lids drop, shutting out the tapping of fingers on the keyboard from Shaun's end of the room.

_It was one of those housing complexes with a courtyard in the middle,the kind where if you looked close enough, you know everybody's business through your rear window. Desmond opened the door to a small, but tasteful, apartment. Taking a step inside, he strides over to a brown-haired man in a wheelchair with a large cast on his leg and a pair of binoculars in hand. A blonde woman appears from the kitchen, carrying a tray with some food on it over to where the man sat. She smiles reassuringly at Desmond, offering him a sandwich. Thanking her, Desmond pulls a chair up next to the invalid, leaning his head on his shoulder._

_"The couple's dog was found dead in the courtyard, neck broken." The man announces. "All of the neighbours ran to their windows when the heard the shout. Everyone except Vidic." Desmond shudders, entwining his fingers with that of the man's._

_"Why would Vidic want to kill a little dog, Shaun? Because it knew too much?" Shaun gestures to the garden_

_"Those two yellow zinnias at the end, they're shorter now. Since when do flowers grow _shorter_ over the course of two weeks? Somethings buried there."_

_"Mrs. Vidic!"_

_"You haven't spent much time around cemeteries, have you, Desmond? It's impossible that he could bury Mrs. Vidic in a hole the size of one square foot. Unless he buried her standing on end, in which case he wouldn't need the knives and saws." Desmond pouts, removing his head from Shaun's shoulder. Shaun passes him a folded piece of paper. "Listen, this note accuses Vidic of the crime, saying i want to meet him for drinks. Slip it under his door. After he leaves, you and Lucy do some digging in the garden. Please, Desmond? For me?" Desmond sighs, slipping the note in his pocket and delivering a quick kiss to Shaun's forehead. "You're deplorable." Lucy rolls up her sleeves and grabs a gardening shovel._

_"Let's go down there and find out whats buried in that garden." Desmond turns away from Shaun and follows the woman._

_"Why not? I've always wanted to meet Mrs. Vidic."_

_The digging was fruitless, and Desmond is frustrated. He wants to help Shaun with this, prove to him he isn't useless. Then he notices the fire escape leading to Vidic's apartment. Lucy is warning him not to, that it's too dangerous, but he brushes her off. "I'll be fine." He says. Clambering up the ladder, he squeezes through the window into the apartment. He's scared of what he's going to find here, but not if he'll make it out alive. This is a deja vu, and after he finds the ring and Vidic grabs him, Shaun phones the police and rescues him. There's nothing to be afraid of, except for what he might find. But after he picks up the ring and Vidic assaults him, there is no phone call from across the courtyard, no wailing of sirens. Just Vidic with eyes full of maliciousness and vice as he drags Desmond to the bathroom and throws him on the floor, advancing on him with ropes and a gag. And now Desmond is terrified, because this wasn't part of the movie, but there is no director or pre-made plot to save him, there's just Vidic and that frightening stare, and the fact Desmond isn't sure what is going to happen to him. Oh, he has some ideas alright. He tries to push them aside, but he can't now that Vidic is using a switchblade to remove Desmond's shirt, and not being all that careful with the skin beneath it. Desmond wants to cry out, but even without the gag, his throat is feels closed and he can't, just _can't. _Vidic's face is close to his, and that look has turned into a leer, and that knife is trailing over Desmond's throat, leaving thin trails of blood in its wake. Vidic is even closer now, their bodies are touching, and Desmond can feel the heat radiating of Vidic's tongue as he licks the blood away._

Desmond awoke, a screaming tangle of sweat and limbs. Pulling his knees to his chin, he tried to steady his pounding heart.

_It was just a dream, Vidic isn't here. He can't hurt you here, it was just a dream._

Drawing in a shaky breath, Desmond looked over at the computer desk. Shaun stood up, walking over to where Desmond sat.

"Uh..are you alright? It's not bleeding effect, is it?" Shaun asked, concerned. He wanted to lean over, to give the other man a reassuring hug and let him know everything would be okay, because Shaun knew he would always be there for Desmond, but Desmond was shaking uncontrollably, and Shaun had no idea how to react in this sort of situation. Desmond grabbed Shaun's hand, holding it to his chest. Shaun could feel both their hearts going a mile a minute. Desmond shook his head.

"No, just a… nightmare." Shaun hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Desmond nodded.

"Not…not now, though. Can you stay with me?" He implored, Hazel eyes pleading.

Shaun sighed. Desmond looked so vulnerable right now, and he didn't want to leave him alone with whatever hell lay behind his eyelids, no matter how loudly the voices in the back of his head were protesting. "Yeah, okay." Shaun was going to stand up to grab a chair to sleep on, but Desmond had covered him in half the blanket already as he lay down to sleep, still holding Shaun's hand. Reasoning with the mutinous thoughts bouncing around in his skull, Shaun decided to get up extra early, because if any of the girls saw him like this, he knew he would _never _hear the end of it. _Ever._

**A/N: **your probably all like "Ohmigaaaawd niharika, stop butchering everything i ever loved that you never say or played, like rear window and assassins creed. UR RUINING MY FANDOM BEOTCH." but bear with me, please? i admit, i've never actually played assassins creed or seen rear window (SHAAAAAAAME. at least i saw some other hitchcock films, right? riiigggght?"), but i can so bake something over your flames. like, i don't know, schichttorte? so anywho, thanks for bearing my terrible butchery of everything you ever loved, faithful readers. be it queen, hitchcock, or ubisoft. If the thought strikes you, feel free to drop in a quick review!

NINS OUT!


	6. Shaun the schoolgirl

**A/N:** HOLY CRAP DEAR READERS, i've left you hanging for more than a month. Geez, sorry! school's been starting up with a rush and my acceptance to the literary arts program at my school has been leaving me little time for fan-writing for you guys! Anyways, no hard feelings? heh. suuuure. I'd like to continue updating this story, no matter how irregularly, and i hope you guys can bear with me! Thanks to all those cool kids following this lil' piece of mine, i really appreciate all your reviews! if you have any suggestions or things you would like to happen, just drop a line! NINS OUT!

Shaun's eyes snapped open.

_Shit. What time is it?_

Grudgingly, he removed himself from Desmond's vice-like grip, rubbing the sleep out his eyes and fumbling for his glasses. Blinking as his vision returned, he caught sight of Rebecca lounging in the doorframe, a smirk plastered on her face. Trying to come up with an explanation for why in the _hell _he'd just been found _most certainly NOT _cuddling with Des, Shaun opened his mouth, but the words couldn't find a way out. Rebecca just waved a hand dismissively in his direction.

"Alright, Hastings. Rise and shine, we've got work to do." Shaun shuffled after her, muttering misgivings all the way to the kitchen. Rebecca giggled. "You're such a schoolgirl." Shaun scowled. The mental death-beams he was sending her didn't seem to be working. _Damn it all. _

_"_I am _not._"

"Yes you are. You were blushin' like a bride when you saw me!"

"_No i wasn't."_

" Sure."

"…Your hair looks stupid."

She raised an eyebrow. "Whatever, Romeo. Now c'mon, we gotta start this before Des wakes up!"

"Start _what_?"

"Your Dance lessons, silly!"

Shaun groaned, staring at the playlist Niharika had just handed him. "Try listening to these to help you loosen up, okay?"

"Katy Perry? _Are you out of your mind, woman?_" Niharika and Rebecca exchanged knowing smiles.

_Out of our minds, indeed._

Faraway from the Animus room and Desmond's prying ears, Rebecca, Niharika, and Shaun lay sprawled on Shaun's bed, sharing headphones and thoughts.

"I mean, dance is like the expression of emotions you can't put into words! You know what i mean?" Niharika chattered, glancing at Shaun. Shaun flung a pillow over his head.

"Sure. But that won't make Desmond like me." Rebecca snorted.

"Please. What was all that bed-cuddling about then, Hastings?" Shaun chucked the pillow at her, flushed.

"That was _not _cuddling, Rebecca! He'd just had a nightmare. _That's all." _Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Why do you have to be so cynical? Just give this a try! What's the worst that could happen?" Shaun raised his palms in defeat.

"Alright, alright. So what exactly do we have to do?" Rebecca grinned, hauling Shaun to his feet as she pulled out her ipod and plugged it in to Shaun's speaker.

"Just dance, Hastings!"


	7. MAMMA MIA, IT'S ANTONIO!

_Ezio sat by a canal, hunched over as he plucked petals off a white carnation, letting them fall into the water below. A shadow fell over him, and he glanced up to find Rosa standing beside him, hands on her hips._

_"Alright, you are sulking. What is the problem?" Ezio scowled at her. "Don't be that way, Ezio. What is on your mind?"_

_"There is _nothing _on my mind! Now buzz off, Rosa." Rosa rolled her eyes._

_"Stop being such a bambino, Ezio. I can see through you easier than this water. But that isn't saying much…" She raised her eyebrows and glanced at the pungent canal. "Boys like you do not hang around filthy places like this unless they are distressed, or, dare I say it, _lovesick_?" Ezio threw the flower at her. She dodged it light-heartedly, laughing. "I see I have struck a cord! Who is the lucky girl, huh?" Noticing Ezio's glare, she quieted down as she sat beside him. "Is this about Leonardo?" She whispered, placing a hand on Ezio's shoulder. Ezio just stared at the trash floating down the canal. Rosa smiled. " Cheer up, Ezio! I'll talk to Antonio about this, he'll know what to do!" Ezio stood abruptly, chasing after Rosa as she skipped down the street._

_"Rosa! You putana! Get back here!" She let out another laugh. Suddenly, Antonio rounded the corner. Ezio managed not to trip over him, but Antonio still found it necessary to yank him by the back of his collar as if he had._

_"Ezio, my boy! You must be more careful!" Ezio sighed. There was no way a clod like Antonio could help him with his "problem". Rosa peeked out from behind Antonio, the picture of innocence. Antonio glanced at Her. "Rosa, you are no Madonna, what have you done to poor Ezio this time?" _

_"Nothing at all, Antonio!" She giggled. "Ezio is lovesick!"_

_"Lovesick!" Antonio bellowed. He lowered his voice, and leaned in close. "Is it Leonardo?" Ezio groaned, and freed himself from Antonio's iron grip._

_Was there _anyone _in Venice who didn't know how he felt about the painter? Rosa nodded, tugging on Antonio's sleeve._

_"I found him by one of the canals, plucking petals off one of the white carnations Leonardo has outside his workshop!" Ezio blushed._

_Why did Rosa have to be so observative?_

_Antonio smoothed his tunic._

_"Well, well, well! Lovesick? A casanova like _Ezio_? This is serious!" Ezio swatted Antonio's hand away as he ruffled his hair._

_"Do not fret, amico mio! I am very experienced with matters of the heart, and will help you win over your fair artist!" Antonio stroked his moustache._

_Ezio was skeptical, but he couldn't help but be curious and listen in as Antonio explained his plan._

Desmond lay on his bed, staring into the darkness. Occasionally, light from Shaun's computer would flit across the ceiling and rouse him from his reverie. He turned to the side, watching the historian work. He wished he could talk to him.

"Shaun?" Shaun glanced at Desmond over his shoulder.

"What is it, Desmond?"

"Uh…nothing." Desmond rolled over to face the wall next to him, chastising himself.

Shaun pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling. Desmond could be so dense. Must be too many hours in that damned animus. He stood up and strode over to the bed.

"Nothing? please. What am I? A toddler?" He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Are you ready to talk about that nightmare of yours?" Desmond sat up. It couldn't hurt, could it?

**A/N:** Oh, Antonio! You card, you! So i haven't updated this in like, what, 2 months? and then all i put up is a measly 500-some words? oh geez. Anywho, Ezio/Leo seems to be a canon for this story, now. The literature arts program is hosting a word show in march, but i am supposed to be working on my story for it even now! I have a pretty rocking' story coming on, but unfortunately, this leaves even less time for fanfiction :/ But anyways, i hope your enjoying my story! Drop me a line if you have any suggestions!


	8. Funambulist!

Desmond was very careful as he explained his dream, leaving out parts he found entirely too personal to talk about, like how Shaun had been his husband.

And the fact he had technically been a girl.

For a while, the two just lay there on Desmond's bed. Not talking about anything important, just enjoying each others' company, before they would have to wake up and continue with the war they had been caught in.

It became sort of a routine.

Often, They would listen to music. Shaun didn't like people touching his ipod, but since Desmond had received a thorough "education" in Shaun's musical tastes, it hadn't been hard to find music they would both enjoy. Sometimes, if Desmond was feeling particularly lucky that night, the two would fall asleep like that, headphones and all.

On rare occasions, Shaun would fall asleep first, but Desmond didn't mind. He'd hardly ever seen the historian sleep before, and Desmond felt like one could learn a lot about people by the way they slept. Shaun didn't tend to take his glasses off before grabbing a bit of shuteye, so Desmond would do it for him. He slept with his legs slightly bent, as if he were in a defensive stance, but he just tucked his arms together at the side of his head, like a toddler with a stuffed animal. He would snuggle his face into his sleeves, resulting in that perpetual cowlick of his, as well as red marks if his glasses were still on.

Desmond was seriously beginning to wonder if Lucy was descended from Rosa, or maybe even Antonio (Ha!). I mean, their dastardly plots were nearly _identical_! Desmond had made a little promise to himself: If Antonio's idea worked, then he'd try Lucy's. After all, him and Shaun were _sort of maybe hopefully _friends-ish, now. No harm done, right?

_"Wrong!" Antonio bellowed, throwing off his cape in a frustrated manner. "You will most certainly _not _enter through the window and drag him off like some _vagabondo_! You will go through the _door_, and _politely _inquire if he would like to accompany you to the Carnivale , si?"_

_Rosa skipped across the courtyard to where Ezio and Antonio sat, passing Ezio a white silk mask. "Handsome mask for a handsome boy!" She teased._

_Indeed, the mask was very handsome, embroidered with tiny silver beads and edged with shimmering gold brocade. It was fixed with a snowy satin ribbon. Ezio felt optimistic about his plans for Leonardo just holding it! He thanked Rosa as she gave him a reassuring grin. Antonio clapped his hands and stood up._

_"Alright, Ezio! Acrobatics may be second nature to an funambulist_* _like yourself, but just to be sure, let's touch up those dancing skills, si?" He hauled Ezio to his feet as Rosa twirled over to the fountain, the beads of water glistening in the sunlight as they cast a pleasant mist over the garden. Tying on his mask, Ezio put on his best charming smile, hoping to save the real one Leonardo had captured earlier for the real thing._

_"Let us begin!" Antonio boomed, with a flourish of his hands._

_Ezio fumbled with the hem of his tunic, trying not to bite his lip. Why did this have to be so _difficult_? He stood tall and straightened his mask, checking his reflection in a nearby canal as he continued on his way to Leonardo's. He understood that he had to be very tactful about this. He valued Leonardo in many ways: as a friend, a mentor, a saviour. He couldn't let his usually boisterous and overconfident bearing destroy what he cherished most. Running his hands through his hair in a nervous fashion, Ezio strode up the walkway to Leo's workshop and knocked on the door. Even though he only waited for a few seconds, it felt like an eternity to Ezio. Leonardo seemed surprised to find him _actually using the door_, but he welcomed Ezio inside with his usual cheery demeanour._

_"Ezio, entering through the _door_? Unheard of!" He laughed. "What brings you here, amico mio? Do you have another codex page for me? how excit-"_

_Ezio cleared his throat, cutting the artist off. "Well… actually, I was wondering if you would perhaps like to join me for tonight's festivities? Only if you have nothing else to do, of course." He added hastily._

_Leonardo's blue eyes lit up. "I would love to, Ezio! Just let me get my mask." Leonardo bustled about the workshop for a few minutes, eventually producing a beautiful clay mask, the rich colour of red wine. It was decorated with golden blooms and swirling vines. "Do you like it, Ezio? I painted it myself!" He chirped happily. Ezio broke into a grin. "It's beautiful!" Walking over to a window, he opened it and offered the artist his hand. The two proceeded to walk along the rooftops, watching as the partygoers thrived beneath them in a sea of colour._

*- "funambulist" is an old french word meaning "tightrope walker" or "acrobat". The term actually originated in the 18th century, long after Ezio's time, but i felt like using it. SO SUE ME.

**a/n: **hello, there readers! Sure has been a long time since I last left you hanging. Forgive me? Naaah. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter of my little story. I'm amazed at the number of people who've shown interest! In other news, my story for the Lord Byng word show, "UNITE", is complete, although still in the process of editing. Upon request, I may send you a copy, if you'd like.

NINS OUT!


	9. Mad flurries and fireworks

_Although it was not longer necessary for the two to hold hands, Ezio said nothing of it as him and Leonardo found a place to sit in a small rooftop garden. It was a truly beautiful and inspirational place, with marble pillars overgrown with vines and dappled with blossoms. There was even a small fountain, with water pouring from the mouth of a majestic stone lion. An overhang of branches protected them from prying eyes, while the height of the garden gave them a marvellous view of the party beneath them. Indeed, the setting was perfect! Ezio could not have dreamed of a better place to put his plan into action. As the sleepy coos of nesting birds fell silent, the music and laughter from the streets drifted upwards as the festivities began._

_Leonardo seemed to be enjoying their surroundings, observing their hiding place with eyes brighter than the stars above them. Glancing down, he noticed he and Ezio were still holding hands. Turning a pale shade of red, he stammered something unintelligible, expecting Ezio to drop his hand, before looking up, confused when Ezio tightened his grip. The music below seemed to grow louder._

_"May I have this dance, Leonardo?"_

Desmond paced his room, frustrated, with music from his ipod at full blast. He figured everyone could probably hear it from the rooms over. Not fair! How come today's animus session had to leave him on such a _cliffhanger_? How the hell was he supposed to sleep tonight when he didn't know the outcome of Ezio's evening? _So _not fair! Shaun walked in, yawning.

"Desmond, you're _still _awake? Is there a problem or something?"

Desmond never considered himself to be a particularly impulsive perfect. His (incredibly logical, might he add) excuse for drawing Shaun into a flurry of mad dancing was that he needed to "practice", when Shaun gave him a look that said he was "out of his bloody mind". Later, he remembered that practicing dancing in the real world would _so _not help Ezio back in Venice, hundreds of years ago, but it had seemed really, _really_, logical at the time.

Then again, it had also seemed totally logical when he _so accidentally _smashed his mouth against Shaun's in, once again, a mad flurry. Mad flurry- that word seemed applicable to pretty much _everything_. Desmond's thoughts, for example. How Shaun had left his room after what Desmond could probably say was the best make out session he'd ever had. How the awkwardness of the situation had hit him. Yup, everything certainly seemed to be in _some _sort of mad flurry.

Everything sucked. _A lot._

Desmond needed a way to fix it. _A lot._

He figured he may as well talk to the girls. They seemed to always know what to do. Curling up in his bed, Desmond drifted into a light and uncomfortable sleep, head swirling with thoughts and ideas.

_Leonardo tilted his head, Ezio with a quizzical look._

_"Well?" Ezio pleaded. He extended his other hand, heart pounding. Leonardo accepted, saying nothing. Why did masks have to make it so hard to read expressions? Ezio had no clue what Leo could be thinking! Ezio stumbled through his steps, feeling giddy. Nothing was going right! What was he going to _do_? Hearing a stream of pleasant laughter, he looked up to find Leonardo smiling at him._

_"Amico mio, do you need help with your steps?"_

_Ezio felt heat rise to his cheeks as Leonardo gently led him through the movements, humming along to the music._

_"Even an acrobat like yourself can get confused sometimes, si?" Leonardo teased._

_"N-not true! I'm just… nervous…?" Ezio stuttered. Leonardo quirked an eyebrow._

_"Nervous? About what?"_

_Ezio wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to respond to that. There was always the whole "tell the truth" option, but that seemed really, _really_, illogical._

_"Oh, you know… guards and stuff…" He muttered._

_Leonardo looked entirely crestfallen, and Ezio felt like he could hear the artist's heart crack. He also swore he could hear Rosa in the back of his mind calling "Idioto!" and giving him a good smack from the inside of his skull. He took a deep breath._

_"I lied. That's not why I'm… uh… nervous." He swallowed and averted his eyes. Whatever happened to being smooth? Whatever happened to charming smiles? Whatever happened to _not screwing everything up_?_

_"Then what is it, Ezio?" Leonardo touched his chin, moving his focus away from the ground. Ezio gulped. He was pretty sure this was one of those "now or never moments" He leaned in._

_"Leonardo…"_

_"Ezio, look! Fireworks!" Leonardo moved to go watch the bright displays of colour and light._

_Ezio groaned, exasperated. Reaching out, he grabbed the artist by the waist._

_"Oh no you don't!"_

_"Wha-"_

_And then Ezio did it. He may not have seen the real fireworks behind him, but he sure as hell saw some pretty brilliant ones in Leonardo's eyes as they kissed. Some felt like they were going off in his head, too._

_Must have had something to do with the fact Leonardo was kissing back._

**a/n: **Whooo! Two chapters within two days of each other? No way! Enjoy :)

In other news, I received a scholarship to an EA games media arts program for 2d animation! Sweet deal! Unfortunately, I'll be probably too busy to write this weekend, as the head of the arts department at my school has requested I do a piece for the upcoming gallery show!

NINS OUT!


	10. Places I keep my laptop: Laundry hamper

Desmond was pretty sure if it weren't for the girls, his love life would be a sorry lost cause.

"You _what_?" Rebecca had exclaimed, spewing her coffee all over her shirt when Desmond had relayed the previous night's events. Evidently, the whole "hot 'n heavy" dance thing had not been what her and Lucy had had in mind.

"Hey! Don't give me that look!"

While Niharika grabbed some paper towels, Lucy thumped Rebecca on the back, getting the coffee out of her wind pipe.

"Des, we have to fix this!" Rebecca coughed.

" Oh, tell me something I _don't _know! I've been up all night thinking about it!"

Lucy sighed. "Alright, you two, calm down! This is getting us nowhere! We've got to _think."_

_Ezio had gotten used to having to work for the things he wanted. So when he found himself wrapped up in those things, with hardly any work involved (Unless days spent fantasizing and anxiety counted as work. In which case, he'd been pulling some serious overtime.), he felt as though his heart would literally _explode. _Leonardo was so different than anyone he'd kissed before; tender and sweet with all of these little sharp edges from his teeth and beard that scraped Ezio's chin, but made him feel like melting, all at the same time. It was all strange and new and _good_, and Ezio was positive if he didn't let himself up for air soon he was going to pass out._

_When they broke the kiss, Leonardo had fixed him with this _smile _that made Ezio's brain go all jittery and his legs turn to gelatine. No one had ever had this effect on him. But that _smile_! It seemed to make everything a little brighter, like it could release it's own rays of light and goodness and _Leonardo _into the world, and make things seem a bit better. Ezio couldn't contain a smile of his own._

_"Hey." Leonardo whispered. "There's that smile of yours I never see anymore."_

_Ezio brushed another kiss to the artist's lips, more chaste than the last, to Leonardo's mouth, feeling the artist's lips curl up against his as he hummed pleasantly. Holding his friend close, Ezio swayed to the rhythm of the Carnivale below._

_He would have to make sure to thank Antonio and Rosa later. _Seriously.

Okay, Shaun was _positive _there was some sort of bloody conspiracy going on. Desmond and the girls were sharing all of these _knowing looks _and doing the whole "having a whispered conversation but talking abnormally loudly about irrelevant things whenever he came near." Shaun had no doubt it was about the previous evening.

_Bloody hell._

Desmond was sending him to an early grave, that was for sure. He would probably find little clusters of grey hair on his temple one of these days.

Not that he couldn't stop thinking about Desmond if he wanted to.

Or how good his kisses were.

Or how Shaun's skin still felt warm wherever Desmond's roaming hands had touched.

Oh yeah, Shaun _Definitely _had the situation under control.

"Where the fuck is my laptop?" He muttered to no one in particular, eyes scanning his room. "_No. _It _isn't._" Shaun looked under his bed, checked in his closet, _went through his laundry hamper, _and did all of those ridiculous and dramatic things that were so, _so _unnecessary and stupid, but would stop him from having to go into _his _room.

Which was, unfortunately, the only logical place Shaun could fathom for his laptop to be in.

"Lady luck must be going through a cruel streak." He muttered.

Shaun was positive going into Desmond's room qualified as some kind of suicide mission. But if assassins couldn't face awkward situations, things were probably a hell of a lot worse than he thought they were. Peeking into the dim room, he could only see the faint glow of the main computer's screen. Maybe luck was on his side after all.

_False._

As soon as he stepped in, Shaun realized the dim lights weren't exactly for energy saving. More like for a cliche romantic setting(that _so _did not make him go weak-kneed). Some sort of guitar music started playing in the background, and Shaun just wanted to turn tail and run, but there was Desmond.

Desmond, with a _ridiculously _smug look on that (_so _not handsome) face of his. Shaun either wanted to punch him or kiss him, whichever would make it go away faster. And as much as he was trying to deny it, he would probably end up choosing the latter. But lying innocently on the bed next to Desmond, was Shaun's laptop. Maybe punching wasn't out of the question, after all.

Desmond extended his hand, looking like _such _a gentleman. Shaun thought that it was really, _really _unfair, considering Desmond had just (probably) stolen his laptop, that he had managed to look so damned _charming._

_"You…_!"

"May I have this dance, Shaun?"

Shaun said nothing, but allowed Desmond to pull him close.

Fine, he'd dance with him, _Then _punch him.

Then maybe kiss him.

Maybe.

**A/N: **Hey there, readers! With school a bit more under control, I've had more time for writing. Sweet!

Not that midterms exist or anything. No way. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I think there will only be around one or two more to go. If there is anything you'd like to see, anything you'd like me to consider changing, or if you're just plain enjoying this, feel free to drop a review! :)

NINS OUT!


	11. Ocean metaphor overdose

So there Shaun found himself, _slow dancing_, of all things, with _Desmond Miles_, of all people. Sure, if someone had told him he would have a week a ago, he would have probably spent a goof few hours fantasizing about it, but would have passed it off of nothing short of ridiculous. But then again, the idea of some age-old secret underground war waging under society's metaphorical nose was pretty ridiculous, too. Shaun thought it would probably be a good decision to redefine "ridiculous".

Shaun and Desmond danced quietly for several minutes, not trying to talk over the soothing guitar chords. It may have been different from the previous evening, but Shaun was _positive _Desmond would be smirking now. _Great._

Well, two can play at _that _game! Shaun lifted his gaze, prepared to fix Desmond with his patented "floor a raging bull" glare, but he _so _did not except what he found in the place of some kind of "here, kitty kitty" smirk. Shaun was pretty sure if he didn't have such pride in his control of his facial expressions, his jaw might have actually hit the floor.

Desmond looked _thoughtful_, even _sweet_. Shaun almost pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he saw Shaun's expression, he even _somehow _managed to contain a smile. _Wow._ Shaun was, well, _dumbfounded._

That certainly felt new. It'd been a while since Shaun felt dumbfounded.

Wait, did being dumbfounded involve being weak kneed with an uncontrollable urge to smile then just _melt _into your dance partner?

Shaun wasn't really sure, but for now, he'd just hope that's what being "dumbfounded" meant.

_Ezio couldn't exactly remember how he and Leonardo had gotten back to the artist's workshop, but they were hand in hand, and Ezio felt it was okay to forget the journey if it granted him such a result. He wasn't sure what would happen now, but really, it didn't matter to him. He had Leonardo; friend, mentor, saviour, and as of what could have been only a few minutes ago, _lover_. Ezio's life may have been as unpredictable and dangerous as the ocean, but with Leonardo holding his hand and giving him that dreamy smile, he felt like he could forget the storm and dive in deep with no regrets._

_Leonardo gently undid Ezio's mask, followed shortly by his own, laying them on a workshop table, before beckoning for Ezio to join him on a divan. Taking Ezio's face in his hands, he ran his thumb lovingly over his scar._

_"Oh, Ezio I was beginning to wonder what I was going to do with you." He chuckled warmly, pulling Ezio in for an even warmer kiss._

Shaun had no idea how all of that slow dancing had somehow wound up on Desmond's bed, but he really wasn't complaining. He was so familiar with the place anyways, after spending so many nights and early mornings there with the other man. Sure, there was a hell of a lot more kissing going on now than before, but once again, Shaun had no reason to complain. It certainly felt different than the last time. Softer, sweeter, without the atmosphere of hurry and doubt. No reason to complain at all. Not with Desmond crawling onto his lap murmuring pleasurable things into his ear while he fingered the grey fabric of the hem of Shaun's sweater.

He seemed to be hinting at something, and Shaun was all too eager to comply.

_It had been a few years since Ezio had last celebrated Carnivale, since the death of his family, but he knew this was his favourite way to spend it. Curled up in bed with Leonardo mapping out patterns on his bare chest, talking about nothing in particular as the festival seemed to pour in from an open window. Leonardo seemed to know his body better than he himself did! Must have something to do with all the times the artist put Ezio back together again._

_The serenity of the whole situation felt like a dream to Ezio. Here he was, lying on a luxurious silk duvet with the man of his dreams, with laughter, music, and joy seeping from every corner of the city. He was afraid if he closed his eyes even for a second, it would all vanish and he would find himself asleep in some brothel, but then Leonardo would flash him _that _smile and pull him in for one of _those _kisses and all of those doubts and fears would evaporate and he'd find himself succumbing to the artist's ministrations again and again._

_They slept together that night, but not in the way Ezio would go through the wringer with Rosa about. Sleep, in the most innocent sense. Two lovers tangled in each other, trying to stay awake so they could just be with each other for just that much longer before sleep would overcome them._


	12. We've just got now

Shaun took great pride in the fact that he did not sleep with Desmond that night. Seriously, he deserved a medal or something. That isn't to say that Desmond didn't trail kisses and gentle touches all over Shaun's body in places that made his breath hitch and his toes curl. Or that he didn't kiss him in that spot just underneath his bellybutton that made his stomach jump. Oh no, not at all. Medal? More like the Nobel Peace Prize.

And so the pair lay in the warm afterglow of confession, talking nonsense about nonsense and simply enjoyed each others' company. Desmond had somehow wound up wearing Shaun's Fred Perry sweater, but Shaun didn't mind.

He also didn't mind the smug look Rebecca gave him when she innocently wandered in the next morning. Shaun just gave her a lopsided smile, glasses askew. Really, he knew he should have been singing her praises and running around carving statues in her likeness out of solid blocks of marble. The fact he wasn't riling him up as per usual seemed to ruin her fun, and she soon left. Shaun figured he'd save that tidbit of knowledge for later date.

Desmond peeked up at him from under the folds of the comforter.

"Gotta 'member to thank Lucy." He mumbled.

"What's that?"

"'S whole dancing thing was her 'dea."

Shaun raised an eyebrow.

_Dancing Thing?_

If Rebecca wasn't such a bloody saint, and Shaun wasn't so enamoured with the being in his bed, he'd have gone out and skewered the Yank in a second.

That girl couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

_Ezio unwrapped himself from Leonardo's torso as he woke, careful not to disturb the sleeping artist. Dusting a pair of light kisses over Leonardo's eyelids, he watched with glee as Leonardo's mouth curved into a smile. The blonde's eyes fluttered open and he sat up, running a hand through his messy hair._

_"Buongiorno, Ezio." He murmured. _

_Ezio grinned, reclaiming his place on the artist as he lounged across Leonardo's lap like a cat, practically purring. Leonardo laughed, resisting the urge to scratch Ezio's chin or rub his stomach._

_"Oh, Ezio. I still have no clue what I'm going to do with you."_

_Ezio looked up at him, solemn. "The life I lead…it's unpredictable. I can't… I can't always stay by your side when you need me. I won't be able to watch you flourish, or grow old-"_

_Leonardo put a finger to Ezio's lips, cutting him off._

_"Ezio, I know. It hurts me, too, but we have this moment, and perhaps others to come, so let us enjoy them while they last." Tracing his finger over Ezio's scar, he drew in for a kiss as Ezio threaded his hands though Leonardo's hair, pulling him closer._

Desmond looked at Shaun intently, brows knitted.

"We don't really have a "relationship environment" type-thing going on, do we?"

Shaun rolled his eyes. "Desmond, sometimes you are just so _dense. _You think I didn't know that?" Desmond flinched at his words, and Shaun felt his heat sink. He sighed, reaching out to stroke Desmond's cheek.

"We certainly don't have all the time in the world to be together, but we have now, and I intend to make use of it." Shaun grabbed Desmond's waist and hauled the man into his lap for a hug. Desmond dug his face into Shaun's shoulder, inhaling the scent of metal, old books, and earl grey. Shaun comforted the man on top of him, kissing him along the line of his jaw. Desmond looked up at him, bleary eyed.

"Can this become, an…uh, you know… regular thing?"

Shaun rolled his eyes again. "_So _dense. How do you even function?" His mouth quirked into a smile as he drew Desmond in for a kiss. "_Idiot._"

_Ezio finished getting dressed, glancing out the window at the carnage in the streets from last night's events. Carnivale bled streams of colour all over the city. Leonardo strode in, carrying some painting supplies. Ezio sighed._

_"I…I have to go now."_

_"I understand. I hope I will see you again soon, Ezio. Make sure to say thank you to Rosa and Antonio for me."_

_"And you make sure you get started on those commiss- wait, Rosa and Antonio? What did they do for you?"_

_Leonardo gave a wry smile, glancing at Ezio's mask that still lay on the table beside him. "Oh, nothing."_

~Fin

**A/N: **Welp, it sure has been a long ride! I apologize for how long it's taken me to finish this lovey. No hard feelings? Naaah. Anywho, A huge shout out to all my alertists and reviewers, you've been awesome! This story is now complete, although I may give it a run through and fix my errors.

(Hey anonyhat, I haven't had a chance to personally thank you due to your anonymity, but thanks for your multiple reviews on many of my works, they were very encouraging and I greatly enjoyed reading them!)

NINS OUT!


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